Walls Could Talk

“Thank you all for your patience, staff, seniors, and of course our esteemed guests. Finally, I am proud to present our final speaker for our Career Day. An alumnus of this school, who went on to work as our librarian and, in a wonderful twist of events, became one of the world’s most coveted directors at just 30. Known for her directorial debut, Walls, may I present Jenna Dylan!” 

“WHOO!” 

“That was my best literature student!”  

“Go on, Miss Jenna!” 

“Stop yelling, Kennedy!” 

“We’re all yelling! It’s free real estate, Mr. Stephen!” 

“Aw, you guys, I’m flattered. I never dreamed I’d return to Alden High School to such cheers, but that’s the thing about life. It ends up showing us a million sides and a million possibilities. And this particular possibility, back in high school, is crazy!

“But I’m not here to talk about me. This day must’ve been long enough for you already, no? Oh, you flatter me again. I know y’all are tired. I was once a student, too, you’re forgetting! Anyhow, I’ll lay the basics for those of you who don’t know who I am, and then you can let loose with the questions. 

“I grew up here in this town, when my family and I moved to when I was five. But, from that point, up until my mid-twenties, barely five years ago, that was the most exciting thing that I’d ever happened to me. Quite literally moving when I was five I... wasn’t anything special. Maybe this is a cliché, but it’s true."  

“She definitely doesn’t look like a director. Most of them dress way weirder than a floral dress.” 

“Robin!” 

“What? We’re all thinking it.” 

“Robin! You’re bold, and I admire that. I wasn’t that confident as a senior. And hey, you’re right, but you can’t judge someone based off clothes alone. They're a marker of a personality, but never the whole story. Which brings me back - I’ve been fortunate enough to not have any major losses in my life, nor have my family ever been spectacular. I never had a unique experience or background to draw a unique story from. Those of you who do, tap in to that! In short, I was plain. And, you already know where this is going – what could be the plainest job for a plain girl? Librarian!  

"In retrospect, it made sense that I ended up there. I had no stories of my own, so I studied to organise the stories of other people with much, much more interesting lives than mine. And I’ll pause here, ‘cause I see those hands popping up. You, with the braids in pigtails? What’s your name? Gorgeous hair, by the way.” 

“Thanks, Miss Jenna. I’m Martina, and I wanted to know, how if you’re so simple, as you’ve said, how on earth did you get to Hollywood? Also, what was it like working at the library? Mr Steve’s going to hate me for this, but no one’s ever in there now.” 

“Aha, but that’s what you think. This is where it gets interesting. I had no stories of my own, but I wondered what it would be like to live in the heads of all these heroines, the ones in the books and, as it comes to be, the ones around us too. Y’all have heard the phrase if walls could talk, right?” 

“There’s a Halsey song named that!” 

“And a 5 Seconds of Summer one too!” 

“Mr. Stephen never shut up about it when we were analysing Othello.” 

“ROBIN!” 

“What?” 

“Wow, guys. I’m loving this energy. This might just be the coolest set of seniors I’ve come across in all the schools I’ve come to-” 

“CLASS OF 2019 RISE!” 

“And you will rise, Robin, I’m sure of it. This place seems a lot more fun than it was when I was here, as a librarian and as a student. But it still was pretty interesting, and here’s the tea: Walls do have ears. All it takes it for someone to make them talk. Conversations are happening all around us; you thought the library was safe? The most eye-opening, jaw dropping convos are go on there, y’all. Nowhere is safe, except your own head, guys! And so, me, a boring 20-something librarian, decided to be the ears and take those stories, flip them, reverse them, adapt them to throw them up on a movie projection screen. It’s where the title comes from, you know. Trust me, it wasn’t even about knowing secrets or eavesdropping – all real-life specific elements were censored. Snippets of conversations are only ever a part of a whole story.  

“To answer your question, Martina, how did I get to Hollywood? I wrote a script, in the form of dialogue alone, and posted it to a bunch of studios and directors. It wasn’t a complete stroke of luck, but luck did shine a little when I got a call back simply because a studios exec’s daughter decided to take a chance on a librarian. Maybe they liked the fact I wrote in dialogue rather than the traditional movie formats. Kinda crazy. Surviving in this industry isn't the easiest. The thing is, it’s not about me or the money. It was about finding the beauty in the ordinary, which is something a lot of people need reminding of. In even the plainest of lives, a story exists. Or where no story existed, a story was formed. I did, for myself. I hope you can too.” 

* 

“Hey, Jack. You ready?” 

“Do I look fine?” 

“You look terrible, honestly.” 

“Not helping.” 

“Sorry, man. Why does he go so hard on you, anyway? You’d think applying for an executive position in your own father’s company, of which he is the boss, founder, owner and all, would be a shoe in?” 

“Really not helping, Kev.” 

“You’ve got a minute left to go, anyway. Not much I can do. Good luck. Your speech is crumpled, by the way. And your watch is crooked. Don’t think the father will like that.” 

“Kevin, I swear-” 

“Jack?” 

“Oh- yes, sir?” 

“We're ready for you.” 

* 

“What can I get you, miss?” 

“Double Martini, please.” 

“No bother—hey, didn’t you direct--” 

“I’ll tip you double if you don’t let it drop that I’m here. Is there somewhere less crowded?” 

“O-okay... over there?” 

* 

“What are we having tonight, sir?” 

“The hardest beer you’ve got.” 

“Coming up... here, that’s our strongest. Spiked it with a little extra something.” 

“Appreciate it.” 

“Yeah... you know, you look just like the son of Greer and-” 

“If I triple your tip, will you keep it quiet? Where can I have this in peace?” 

“Uh... sure, dude. Over there, by the neon sign.” 

“Gotcha.” 

“What is it with famous people lately? Wow.” 

* 

“Is this seat taken?” 

“If you’re here to ask for an autograph-” 

“An autograph? Miss, I don’t even know who you are. I’m usually the one declining autographs.” 

“And I don’t know who you are.” 

“...” 

“...” 

“...Shit.” 

“Both kind of assholes tonight, huh?” 

“It’s not been a great day. Had a big speech to give, completely blundered it.” 

“Funny, I also had a speech to give, which went pretty well, actually. I just wish I believed more in what I said. The story’s meant to be inspiring, but it gets a little rundown when you keep repeating it.” 

“Well, Miss...” 

“No last names?” 

“Deal. This is a conversation, plain and simple, between two mildly famous strangers.” 

“Okay then. It’s Jenna.” 

“Well, Jenna. I’m Jack, and I think you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. I don’t know what exactly this speech entails, but if it’s stressing out so much you’ve got a double martini at 8pm, maybe you shouldn’t be doing it.” 

“Well, Jack. It’s not like I don’t love it. I love what I do, but it’s just this part of it. The speech parts. Which is ironic, considering the media industry’s filled with them. I don’t want to give those kids a wrong impression of me, or what it’s like. What if they end up pressured by this part of the job, drinking at 8pm with a fellow human hiding from the fame, who has yet to tell me why he’s drowning his worries in beer?” 

“Touche. Dang.” 

“Thanks. It’s kind of my thing, playing with words. So?” 

“I’m... my job, I’m meant to be the successor to a really big name.” 

“You enjoy it? You really want it? Willing to work for it?” 

“I do...” 

“But not the pressure that comes with it?” 

“There’s that, but there’s also the expectations of my father.” 

“Ah...” 

“Yeah.” 

“So we’re really two, quote, unquote, people who want big things but not the pressure? There’s a story for the screen.” 

“And just so happened to find each other? You seem to be pretty slick with words, are you going to write it? I guess you’re a writer in a big media machine?” 

“Something like that. And you’re up in the arms of a big entrepreneurial enterprise, with your father holding some kind of high rank?” 

“What gave it away?” 

“The watch. It screams awkward inheritance present.” 

“...” 

“...” 

 “This is-” 

“I just- 

“Oh, sorry, ha.” 

“You go, it’s okay.” 

“Right. I’m not offended, by the way. It is flashy, and for someone trying to stay undercover at a dive bar, this was not the way to go. I was going to say that our jobs and what we want to achieve are obviously going to come with side effects. You had a good day, though. What unnerved you about today?” 

“I suppose it’s where I spoke to. My old high school? I wasn’t, like, popular or anything, and the seniors were pretty cool actually. It was just trippy being there after so long, compared to where I am now. You know, I don’t want to give those kids the wrong impression.” 

“It can’t be worse than the impression you gave me.” 

“Haha! For sure, Jack. What a relief you met me at my worst and you’re good with it.” 

“And despite whatever your mysterious writing job is, your intentions seem honourable. Gotta take the good with the bad in this route.” 

“I guess. Or maybe, having surprisingly therapeutic conversations over drinks with famous strangers in shady corners is what we need to keep us sane.” 

“I’ll drink to that. To hidden conversations.” 

"Though, nowhere’s really safe, you know.” 

“Oh, I know. That bartender I triple-tipped to keep quiet has been looking over here way too much to be subtle. People definitely know who we are, even if we don’t.” 

“I paid him double!” 

“Damn. I got played?” 

“We both got played. Walls are listening, and I’m sure they’ll talk tomorrow. A shame this anonymity will disappear. But this was fun while it lasted, Jack No-last-name.” 

“I heard that phrase somewhere recently. Walls could talk... was it a movie or...?” 

“It’s a very popular phrase, you know. Multiple songs, books, maybe even that one movie.” 

“Wait. Walls, the movie... Dad was talking about it...” 

“Hey, Jack? Before our cover’s blown and we’ve got to run, I’m just going to say this was the realest conversation I’ve had in a while. I hope your job goes well, whatever it is, and you find your next speech easier to do. I might be known for being the ears that exist in walls, but this one’s just for us both.” 

“Jenna?” 

“Good night, Jack!” 

* 

“Hi, are you Jack Greer? Of Greer Enterprises? Oh my God, my brother never shuts about your brand. Can I have your autograph for him? And a photo?” 

“Hey, Jack? Who was that you were just talking to there? Y’all looked pretty cosy.” 

“You don’t think it was Jenna Dylan, who directed Walls? She was in town today, I heard.” 

“Imagine hearing that conversation. Young successful people and their innovations.” 

“They’d look so cute together. Their clothes were coordinating – her blue dress and his blue shirt?” 

“What do clothes have to do with anything?” 

“A lot, honey. A lot. To be a fly on the wall, sis.” 

“If walls had ears!”